Sunday, August 10, 2014

How would his flesh feel as you molded it with your fists? Would it be like kneading bread? Shove his body in the oven and cook it with your rage. Break off little pieces and feed them to your children. How does the abuser's blood taste in your mouth? Will you ever get your fill?

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Neil Childish

Down by the river, I smoked my doobie.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

haiku May 21

I'm busied by the lilac's scent, the larks' bright yellow, the rain in the grass.

Monday, March 31, 2014

Galaxy Magazine

I just put up a link to an archive.org collection of Galaxy Magazine from the 1950s.

Monday, February 17, 2014

American haiku

Filthy snow outside, but the trees sough, and you smell their wood in the wind.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Locomotive


I was so immense, and gray,

my gray forbidding,
solemn, almost grave
and my cowcatcher formidable:
teeth of iron, a cowcruncher

but that's not what I want to talk about
I want to talk about filth

the snow filthy with coal
and sagebrush rattlers
the redskins piled up like
sausages,
taut with smallpox
and          
             blood


but that's not what I want to talk about
I want to talk about strength

I blew apart at Tonopah
rivets gashed across
engineers and superman's
chest so who


but that's not what I want to talk about
I want to talk about death


and cars
my cowcatcher would smash a car
and what's inside

and danger

but that's not what I want to talk about